


deep within my bones

by Marenke



Series: whumptober 2020 [21]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, rei is just there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marenke/pseuds/Marenke
Summary: Eichi wasn’t sure what would explode first: his head, throbbing with a headache that has been plaguing him for three days, or his joints, swelling with fluid, threatening to bloom like a grotesque flower.
Relationships: Hasumi Keito/Hibiki Wataru/Tenshouin Eichi
Series: whumptober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931353
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	deep within my bones

**Author's Note:**

> whumptober day 21, prompt: chronic pain. a gift for jehan

Eichi wasn’t sure what would explode first: his head, throbbing with a headache that has been plaguing him for three days, or his joints, swelling with fluid, threatening to bloom like a grotesque flower. It’s hard enough to open his eyes, let alone get out of bed.

He could hear, rather than see, Rei moving silently, as if trying to not be a bother. Eichi didn't know if he’s going to sleep _now_ or has just woken up - hell, he doesn’t even know what hour it is, time a slow sludge of pain, minutes passing by in small eternities -, but he knew it was Rei. Aira moved too lightly, too uncomfortable. Eichi could suppose it’s both his and Rei’s fault for teasing the poor kid so much, but his reactions were a delight to see.

“Bad day?” Rei asked, and his voice was too loud, even though it was barely more than a whisper. Eichi barely had the strength to nod, but was it a bad day, really? He was still breathing on his own.

The silence, seemingly, was answer enough: Rei slinked by, grabbed Eichi’s phone off the nightstand, typed on it for a few seconds before putting it back in place. There’s the soft ping of a received message, then another. He probably let Keito know Eichi wasn’t going to go to class today.

The door opened and close, Rei’s voice gently ushering Aira away. He was there? Eichi hadn’t noticed. The door clicks, and he is alone in the dark, the inside of his eyelids mercifully black instead of the flesh-colored red from before.

Eichi tries to get some sleep, since he was free of responsibilities for the day, but any moment he seemed to reach the pleasant buzz of unconsciousness, a flare of pain would shoot up, and he’d find himself too awake. It was exhausting, and without the relief of sleep, the tiredness he felt only grew deeper and deeper, threatening to swallow him whole.

At least breathing didn’t hurt. At least he could still do that without a machine aiding him, his breaths counted and made, lungs inflating and deflating with the aid of technology.

There’s the soft click of the door again, a conversation that sounded muffled. Then, the sound of plastic crinkling, the bed bending down to another foreign weight. A hand, against his forehead, mercifully cool, and there’s a whine at the touch: even this little touch hurts.

“He’s running a fever.” Said Wataru, and Eichi would frown, if he could; he thought Rei had sent a message to Keito.

“Obviously.” Keito snorted, and Eichi’s frown would deepen, had he been sporting one. “Can you hold him up? Gently?”

“I’m fine.” Eichi slurred, and it sounded more like a barely coherent string of sounds than words proper. He cracked open his eyes, and there were his two boyfriends, Keito sorting through a bag, Wataru on the bed with him. “I’m fine.”

Wataru smiled at him like he did not believe his words, and Eichi allowed himself to not cringe while Wataru propped him up, one hand gently in his back, the other on his shoulder, making Eichi sit up in bed.

Gravity worked its way through him almost immediately: pain shot at his hips, the junctions of his body screaming at him to go back to lying down. Weight was better distributed lying down, even and painful all over.

Instead, he just grimaced and bore it. Keito approached, sat in front of him and offered a small pot of plain yogurt and a spoon. In his hands, a handful of pain pills, still in its metallic casing, waiting for him to eat.

To be treated like a child was worse than the pain. Eichi grabbed the pot, opened the lid, and managed a few spoonfuls before his stomach curled into itself, too full.

“Good job!” Wataru chirped, voice soft and quiet, and Eichi leaned into him. Keito offered a small smile, grabbing from his side a plastic water bottle, unscrewing the cap - something harder on Eichi’s hands than pulling a yogurt lid, surely -, handing him the pills. He popped them into his mouth with habitual ease, and washed them down with a few gulps immediately; not fast enough, though, feeling the pills stretch his throat.

When he finished, Eichi allowed himself to rest against Wataru, his body hissing in protest at moving so suddenly again. Wataru hummed some sort of affirmation, and Keito slowly made his way around the bed, taking Eichi’s free side.

He felt safe with people around him. Warm and loved. It was still a foreign feeling.

“Stay until I fall asleep?” He asked, through the pain that was slow to subside, his body so used to pain medicine it took longer to be effective. “Please?”

He hated begging.

“Of course!”

“Always.” 

His two boyfriends spoke at the same time, and Eichi smiled at them.


End file.
